


Keeping Watch

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the night before Honor and her escort meet Harriet Benson and Henri Dessouix, Andrew LaFollet is exactly where he's supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Watch

**Author's Note:**

> The only character regularly called by her first name in the the Honor Harrington books is the main character, Honor. (During narration, that is. Dialogue is another matter entirely) In the story, I have attempted to make a play on this formality. Andrew LaFollet refers to Honor as his Steadholder, or the Steadholder, when he is thinking of her in her official capacity - the icon, not necessarily the person, and Honor, when he's thinking of her as his friend. I'm not sure if that was clear from the story.
> 
> Written for aetherbunny

 

 

_Hades, just outside Camp Inferno_

There was a certain skill necessary to keeping a proper watch. You had to watch carefully, but not focus too hard in a single spot so as to neglect what was going on around you. Let your gaze linger too long in a single place or go too fast trying to watch everywhere at once and you could miss seeing the enemy come to kill you. Ears had to sort out the natural noises caused by wind or night animals going about business that has nothing to do with you. Even changes in scents could be important.

Andrew LaFollet had a lot of practice standing watch.

LaFollet didn't particularly expect trouble tonight, but neither did he not expect it. The previous night's march had been hard on his Steadholder, the more so because she was not used to being physically unfit. Both her mind and her pride had difficulty adjusting to her body's weakness - as if any of her people would think less of her for it! No, to be fair, she would not have demanded to be included in this scouting mission if she had not genuinely believed that she was needed. She was not foolishly stubborn enough to run twenty-three klicks through a jungle just to prove she could run it - not quite. She took enough risks as it was. It was both his honor and his terror that he served a lady with great personal, physical courage.

A noise caught his attention, soft and very close, fabric on fabric, as if someone carelessly shifting position in the dark. LaFollet glanced down and to his right, unconcerned. Honor was usually a quiet sleeper, but she shifted restlessly tonight. _Nightmares?_ LaFollet wondered. If any of them had reason for bad dreams it was Honor. LaFollet had had more than a few himself. The worst of them, dreams of watching his Steadholder die and being helpless to stop it, had not begun until after they had escaped the _Tepes_. Some sort of reaction to the months of living that nightmare while still awake, he supposed. Perhaps his subconscious had been too exhausted while they were prisoners to torment him with that scenario asleep when his waking mind played it practically nonstop, but it appeared his period of grace had ended once they landed on Hell. He'd had his first nightmare when he'd fallen asleep waiting for Honor to wake up after Montoya had amputated Honor's arm.

LaFollet's whole body tensed, remembering what she looked like after Montoya had finished saving his Steadholder's life. The desperate flight through the corridors of the _Tepes_ had let him suppress his rage at the extent of her mistreatment. He'd needed a cool head to get the Steadholder to the boat bay where the rest of her people waited for them, but the months since the escape had left him with little to do but think as he watched over Honor. He'd done his best to keep his emotions calm, knowing she and Nimitz could pick up his distress and anger however neutral his body language. Neither of them needed to deal with his problems - their time was better spent concentrating on their own recovery - but he'd been less than successful at first. He wondered if that had been part of her reasoning in sending him to help keep watch over the whole camp after they'd first landed, instead of staying solely by her side to watch over her. There was no way of telling for sure - she'd have done the same thing whether sensing his emotions had bothered her or not. The Steadholder still resisted the idea that her armsmen existed solely to protect her, placing her life above their own. He wasn't sure if Honor realized how much she fought that fact, but LaFollet certainly knew it.

LaFollet also knew that Honor had saved his life back on the _Tepes_ as surely as he knew she would have died if Harkness hadn't risked his life hacking the _Tepes_ ' computers. His last memory on the _Tepes_ was of the fight in the corridor outside the lift tube leading to the boat bay. Honor had made it inside the tube; McGinley had died just outside of it. LaFollet been hit before he made it to the tube, but he had no memory of what happened from a few moments after the grenade went off until he regained conciousness in one of the assault shuttles as they hit atmosphere. He knew that Honor had somehow, miraculously, been uninjured through the entire flight from the cell they'd broken her out of until she was moments away from the safety of the boat bay. She'd been uninjured when he collapsed, but in surgery fighting for her life when he'd woken back up - and there was no way in hell that he'd made it to that lift tube on his own. Honor must have dragged him in, risking her own life, almost getting killed, just to save him.

He'd wanted to weep, or scream at her that it was not her place to risk her life for him; it was his place - his honor, duty and love - to do so for her. He'd almost wanted to hate her for it, just a little. If she'd died, the lives of the five sent to rescue her would have been lost in vain. He couldn't, though, and in the end he hadn't even tried. He knew her better than he knew anyone else, maybe even better than he knew himself. Honor could no more have left one of her people behind to die when she might save them, merely by risking her own life, than LaFollet could have left _her_ behind. He'd intended to die guarding his Steadholder's escape on the _Tepes_ , but thanks to his Steadholder, he still lived to guard her. LaFollet was determined to guard her, even from herself if necessary. Next time, she might not survive her loyalty.

****

Nimitz was still asleep when Honor Harrington awoke. She winced as she sat up, body protesting the previous night's march and the bruises from when she'd fallen. She massaged her face with fingertips and fought back a yawn. She squinted, trying to locate LaFollet, Clinkscales, and Mayhew in the predawn light. A shadow stirred in one of the nearby trees as she stood up. Andrew LaFollet looked down on her from his perch as she made her way to him. She halted next to the tree and rested her hand against the rough bark, looking up at her armsman. "It's been a quiet night, I see," Honor said.

"Quiet enough, My Lady."

 


End file.
